


Lost & Found

by chaibrows



Series: Prompts/Shorts Etc. [2]
Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 20:09:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7654987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaibrows/pseuds/chaibrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris and Zach work out some personal issues through magazine metaphors.</p><p>Two ficlets, written independently but related.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jakonshama Bliss

**Author's Note:**

> An exercise in word count. Edited only slightly from their original creation.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Zach's instagram post of the upstate NY vacation home.

Zach's phone buzzes in his pocket, which doesn't surprise him. What does surprise him, is that it's from Chris.

_I'm obliged to ask you this, man. Did you at least bring some magazines to your vibey getaway?_

Zach rolls his eyes so hard it physically hurts, and hits the call button. Chris picks up on the second ring.

"You're not seriously lecturing me now, are you? Kind of a dick move, Pine."

"Listen it's 7am here, and I'm making a phone call to you like I'm your babysitter. If I want to be pissy, I'm gonna be pissy."

Zach tamps down on the urge to hold his breath until he passes out and doesn't have to have this conversation, but he figures that's a little too puerile and fits too well with Chris' babysitter comparison. So he settles for a pouty hmmphf-ing noise instead.

"See that? It's because I'm right," Chris says through a yawn. "You know, my sister’s getting real tired of having to keep tabs on your social media habits. Says it's kind of creepy. I'd offer to do it myself, but you know me."

Zach understands that Chris is making a joke, he does. But right now that comment just rubs him the wrong way. There's been a steady build up of negativity in his life this past week; it's one of the reasons he's out at this stupid cabin to begin with. 

His tone comes out sharper than intended. "Fucking seriously, Chris? You need to back off a little bit. I can handle this myself. I'm an adult." He doesn't want to argue with Chris, that wasn't his goal when he called. They rarely see each other anymore, have been talking less and less. They've got the _Beyond_ press tour coming up, and Zach really would prefer not to start that on a sour note. There's been a growing divide between Chris and him, and Zach doesn't want to lose what they have. He doesn't want to lose Chris.

There's a long pause before Chris sighs, a combination of exasperation and sadness. He sounds tired when he finally answers, and Zach knows it's not just because it's early morning in Italy. "Let me know when you're ready to act like one. Because I'll be ready to help you. Cut something out for me, yeah?" He means more than magazine pictures. "Goodbye Zach."

And the line goes dead. Jakon Shama bliss, indeed.


	2. Close Your Eyes, Forget the Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by _Beyond_ press photos of the cast having dinner together in LA, specifically one of Chris and Zach appearing to pay for valet parking together.

It’s early, early morning when Chris wakes to a muffled crash and a wild string of curses emanating from his kitchen. Sometimes he resents the gorgeous open floor plan of his home, Chris thinks, padding down the hall in his bare feet. He finds Zach kneeling on the floor next to the kitchen table, an entire roll of paper towels in his hands to wipe up a puddle of water.

“The hell are you doing?” Chris mumbles, trying to scrub the sleep from his eyes as he stands there dumbly. Maybe this is an elaborate illusion his exhausted mind has created and Chris is really still in bed instead of having to deal with his friend’s special brand of idiocy.

At the sound of Chris’ voice, Zach’s head snaps up from the hardwood floors. “I’m really sorry. I was getting water and I broke one of your glasses,” he says, looking apologetic. And then his eyes flicker to the tabletop, and because Chris is a glutton for punishment, he follows Zach’s gaze. There’s a pile of magazines and cardstock, scissors and a jar of rubber cement sitting out. Zach rubs at the back of his neck sheepishly. “I can explain this too, honest.”

“I see you found my collage making stuff. I’m going to be the better person and _not_ ask why you were digging through my things, and instead I’ll just ask for that explanation you offered,” Chris says as he pulls out a chair and sits. He cringes at the scraping sound it makes against the floor.

With at least half the roll of paper towels soaked through, Zach carefully starts picking out the pieces of glass scattered everywhere. “Simple. Couldn’t sleep. And… I decided to take you up on that suggestion you made a while back.”

“Suggestion?”

“To cut something out for you?”

Chris remembers this, back when Zach first bought that home in upstate New York and Chris foolishly made the phone call that had just antagonized his friend, causing them both undue stress. He sighs wearily and slumps down in his chair. “I shouldn’t have said that to you. It was out of line.”

“No, you were right.” Zach must catch the surprise that flashes across his face because he puts the pile glass on a new dry paper towel and shifts positions so that he’s facing Chris directly. His lips curve faintly when he quips, “Don’t get used to hearing that, though. It was hard enough for me to admit it just now.”

Chris pulls out a second chair, and Zach hesitates before sitting. Neither of them say anything for a while, just fidgeting with the collage stuff. It’s a far cry from the dinner they just drove home from‒ laughing and smiling, conversation peppered with casual touches. And it’s an even further cry, Chris thinks, from the days when they used to turn up at each other’s houses uninvited and stay for hours. Something in Chris’ chest stirs, and it makes him uncomfortable.

“I really am sorry about your glass, though,” Zach says, his quiet voice interrupting Chris’ deep thinking and making him jump with surprise. “I mean, you invited me to stay with you instead of having to get a hotel room and here I am breaking your stuff.”

Chris settles again. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got plenty of glasses. There’s only one of me.” He doesn’t mean to say that. Thankfully, Zach doesn’t comment. “Which one did you break anyway?”

It’s difficult to tell in the low lighting, but Zach’s face turns a little red when he mutters, “I uh.. it was one of the short ones. You know. The ones with the ugly inlays in the bottoms. Remember those?” Zach smiles softly. “They used to be mine. And I gave them to you when I moved because they wouldn’t fit and I couldn’t take them with me.”

“I know, Zach. I remember.” Hearing this makes Chris unexpectedly sad, and he hopes it doesn’t show on his face as he takes the paper towel filled with glass and places it in the trash. He resumes his seat quietly at the table next to Zach, and gestures at the mess covering its surface. “You got all this shit out. I say we make something out of it.”

Zach grins, his smile bright in the dark. The hand he places on Chris’ arm is warm and sure. “Hey. I meant it when I said I was ready to cut something out. You still ready to help me?”

Chris smiles back, and is pleasantly surprised to feel that it’s genuine. Then again, most of his smiles around Zach are. 

“ _Crate & Barrel_ is mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can also be found on [tumblr.](http://www.cardassiansunrise.tumblr.com)


End file.
